Torn Apart
by XxTerraxX
Summary: Winter is at its highest peak and Wilson heads out for more supplies. However, things do not go as planned. [WillowXWilson]


Even in the night, the cold was almost unbearable.

The two lovers, curled up between the cackling fire, were wrapped up in a bundle of blankets. With chilling winds slicing against their cheeks, it led them closer to one another.

Their food was very low in supply. Ever since winter arrived, routine had been slow and they weren't as able to gather much as much resources as they would have in the summer.

This meant low fires [much to Willow's despise] and outrageously depleted sanity.

It was only until Wilson's idea to hunt down game that he had left the camp for one more shot. Willow had urged him to stay with her, as it was too dangerous to gather in the night, but the man kept refusing the offer.

She couldn't stop him now. By the time she was about to disagree and stop him from accommodating his ridicule plan, Wilson was already out of camp, bursting through the snow in a blue streak of hurry.

The firestarter had wanted to chase after him, but figured he was safe enough with his heat stone and puffy vest. Besides, all she had on was her usual getup – something that was too thin to trek through the snow in.

Willow was left alone now, and the hissing of spiders and the swaying of trees seemed more eerie as it echoed along the stone walls. The girl didn't want to admit it, but she had longed for Wilson's warmth since he left. This caused her to curse at herself for letting him escape, not to mention that she wasn't paying attention when he did.

Meanwhile, Wilson was occupied with the ankle deep snow he was trudging through, and it had become aware to him that this wouldn't be some facile journey.

With each and every step, the frost building among his clothes had chilled him to the bone. No matter how much the gentleman had wanted to turn back, his conscience had prevented him from doing so.

Soon, time flew by and the berry-less bushes and stubbles of grass tufts seemed to go on in an endless trail. Nothing was found, no new lands discovered.

Suddenly, a loud grunting noise was heard in the distance. Wilson tiptoed to see where the sound emitted from, only to be shot in the shoulder by a blow dart, sent by a MacTusk and his many hounds.

This caused him to jump back in surprise. Wilson scrambled back as soon as the ice hounds burst after him. Time after time, he felt himself growing dazed from the darts puncturing through his vest and piercing his skin.

He had to get back to Willow and fast. The points of where the dart hit his skin began to feel a burning sensation which made him cry out in unimaginable pain.

Figuring the pack of creatures had lost interest and stopped following him, he collapsed into the snow. Trails of his blood from the shots leaked from his vest and stained the snow below him. Soon he would undergo a permanent sleep, but even the poor scientist couldn't foretell the tragic scene.

Luckily, Willow, who had heard his cries of pain, forced herself to go out into the frigid cold and find her lost lover. It had frightened her deeply to think of what could have happened.

Her running seemed to lessen as her muscles grew achy overtime.

"Wilson?" She would call out occasionally, though no reply was ever heard.

That was, until she accidentally stumbled upon his snow-covered body. Oh, how she screamed at the sight.

Throwing her arms over him, she tried to shake him awake but no luck.

"Wilson? Wilson it's me, Willow! Wake up please, _please_. You're going to be okay, I promise. Just wake up!"

Still no reply. Gazing down at the various darts located among his back, she tore them off carefully, launching them furiously into the trees behind him.

"Oh Wilson..."

Everything seemed muted, then.

Willow wiped off a few tears using the back of her wrist before wrapping herself over him, letting out a quiet sob.

"Please don't cry, love.."

She looked up from her sprawled position and sniffled, wiping off some excess tears with a sheepish expression.

"W-Wilson?"

Though he was in misery, he still managed a warm smile in her direction.

"It's me, Willow. Did you miss me?"

Without answering, the girl cried and pounded her fists gently against him.

"You stupid, stupid man!" the pyromaniac whimpered, "You should've stayed back at camp where you belonged. Where _we _belonged! How could you leave me on such a day?"

"I-I just wanted the best for us. I'm s-sorry dear but I didn't want to see you suffer anymore," he stuttered.

Grasping him with struggle, she tried to lift him up, but no luck due to her weakness and size.

"No, i-it's fine, I'll stay here."

"Wilson, you must be low on sanity. There's no way you'd want to stay out here in the cold!"

Wilson glared at the girl with stern, anguished eyes. The man had wanted to die and all along she was unaware of it. Maybe the pain was too unbearable after all.

He winced, biting his lip to hold in the affliction.

"I-I love you Willow. There are some extra supplies in the chest behind the tent. Be okay, for me, okay?"

"No, Wilson, don't talk like that. You're going to be okay!" She was angry now.

Tearing open her pack, she grabbed some honey poultices and gently peeled up his shirt, latching them on.

"No, don't, Willow-"

"WILSON, I'M TRYING TO SAVE YOU, OKAY? Please…" The girl wailed as she applied the poultice.

"I love you…"

Wilson had stopped replying, then, and Willow was cognizant of this.

_You're gone gone gone away, I watched you disappear_

Letting out a choking sob, she embraced him one last time before planting a stifled kiss upon his cheek.

_All that's left is the ghost of you_.

Willow closed her tear stained eyes.

"I love you too."


End file.
